


With Every Secret

by Musetotheworld



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Supergirl Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-17 19:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13083558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musetotheworld/pseuds/Musetotheworld
Summary: Kara had always heard people say “I don’t really know when things started to change, I just woke up one day and loved them” without ever understanding. Didn’t loving someone mean you knew them so well it was impossible to miss the moments it all came together?How could love just sneak up on you?





	With Every Secret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Madaboutagirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madaboutagirl/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to you!

Kara had always heard people say “I don’t really know when things started to change, I just woke up one day and loved them” without ever understanding. Didn’t loving someone mean you knew them so well it was impossible to miss the moments it all came together?

How could love just sneak up on you?

***

Late nights at CatCo had always been some of Kara’s favorites. There was something about the empty bullpen that seemed surreal, as if she’d stepped into another reality. She could practically see the bustle of bodies from the daylight hours. It was as if there was motion just outside her field of view, and if she could turn fast enough she’d see someone standing there.

She never did, of course. Not even when she used a touch of superspeed. It was only ever her imagination, vague shadows and fanciful dreaming.

And while she loved the surrealism of the bullpen, that constant feeling of “almost” and “not quite”, there was something just as comforting about Cat’s office when they were alone. The lights were always bright enough to mimic the day to ensure no details of the layouts or spreads went unnoticed in gloom. If you didn’t look towards the windows, you could pretend it was just another day, another morning spent helping Cat with whatever she needed.

Of course, it _was_ different from any other day. During the day there were always other duties for Kara, other issues pulling her attention away. She had meetings to schedule, papers to files, and calls to make. Not to mention the Supergirl duties that called her away with increasing regularity. She was never free to sit and help Cat like this, not during business hours.

But once most of CatCo’s employees made their way home and the roar from the bullpen settled into a dull hum, an echo of sounds that _should_ be there and weren’t, things changed. Kara could sit on one of those couches across from Cat and lend a hand with something other than fetching a coffee. She could be useful in a way she’d always wanted.

It hadn’t always been that way, of course. For the first two years as Cat’s assistant she’d been waved off at the end of the day after a final latte run or drink request. Too new, too untrusted, too _something_ to be welcomed in to help.

But shortly after Leslie became Livewire, that changed. For the first time, Kara’s genuine question of “do you need anything else, Miss Grant?” was answered with another task rather than a wave of dismissal.

“Give me a hand with these layouts, won’t you?” Cat says, looking down at the pages in front of her with a sigh of frustration. “There’s something off about them, but I’ve been staring for too long, I can’t see it. I don’t suppose you have any artistic talent, do you?”

“Oh, um, actually I paint,” Kara offers shyly. She can’t remember the last time Cat asked a personal question like that, and she isn’t sure how to respond. It’s strange, opening up like this. Even when she’s only talking about something as innocuous as a hobby.

“Oh?” Cat asks, her voice carefully pitched in that way she uses when she’s actually curious but doesn’t want to show it. It’s a practiced distance, one Kara is used to hearing but rarely hears directed her way. “I suppose that might be enough to make you useful. As long as you aren’t one of those painters who thinks a single line of black paint constitutes a masterpiece.”

The question hidden by the dismissive comment is just what Kara needs to regain her bearings in the conversation. It’s a touchstone of familiarity even if the conversation itself still feels a little surreal. She’s making small talk with Cat after hours, sitting on the couch across from her boss and opening up about her life.

“No, I mostly paint landscapes. Occasionally a portrait or two if I have enough time to really settle in.” She doesn’t mention that she hasn’t had that much free time in months now, not since coming out as Supergirl. Lately she barely has the time to paint at all.

She misses it, but she wouldn’t trade her current responsibilities for anything. She loves every minute she spends looking after her city and she loves every hour spent at CatCo as well. They’re the two halves of who she is, and she needs them both to stay connected. Once she’d needed painting to do the same, to give her an outlet for emotions she couldn’t name, but that had changed somewhere along the way.

If Kara’s honest about it, she thinks it changed the first time she earned a genuine smile from Cat.

“Well, these are a little different from landscapes but we’ll see how you do,” Cat says as she hands over a few sheets.

The rest of the evening passes quickly, Kara slowly learning to spot the little mistakes Cat picks up on so effortlessly. She’s a quick study, and by the time they both leave Kara thinks she might have actually managed to surprise Cat, and not just with the knowledge that she paints.

They’d discussed those paintings as they both looked over the layouts, the closest thing to idle conversation Cat would put up with. Between color theory and building a scene, they talked about how similar crafting a magazine could be to painting. And how different as well.

And somewhere along the way, occasional hints and personal facts made their way into the conversation. It was a rare glimpse of the woman behind the mask, and a chance for Cat to see the woman behind the cardigans as well.

But effusive praise has never been Cat’s style, and they part ways with only the usual instructions for her morning latte as Kara packs up. At least, that’s all that’s said until Cat is standing in her private elevator and waiting for the doors to close.

“The layouts for the next issue will be ready next Tuesday, Keira. You weren’t completely hopeless tonight, a welcome if unexpected surprise given your unfortunate fashion choices. So plan on staying late again, will you?”

The doors slide shut before Kara can respond, which is probably for the best. Because underneath the criticism and backhanded compliments, there had been an honest appreciation that means more than any amount of overt praise. Because she knows Cat Grant, she knows how the woman communicates. Outright praise isn’t her style and when it’s given it’s rarely genuine.

But something like this? A request veiled as a command? That’s something else entirely. It’s a recognition of Kara’s ability and worth given in a way few would understand. It’s an admission that Kara had impressed her.

***

Things go back to normal the next day. There’s no mention of Kara’s help the evening before, and no reprieve from Cat’s usual demands and expectations. It’s almost as if the evening before hadn’t happened at all, but Kara knows better. Kryptonian recall means she can remember every second  of their conversations.

But then again Kara hadn’t particularly _expected_ anything to change. The request for her help next week is likely to be the only sign of Cat’s gratitude. And while other assistants or employees in the past might be put off by the lack of accolades, Kara has always wanted nothing more than to be useful. If she can help Cat, then that’s all the thanks she needs.

One more evening of help becomes two, and before long Kara is spending at least one evening a week helping Cat with whatever needs done. Sometimes it’s layouts, sometimes it’s formatting articles, sometimes it’s budgets and going over the minutes from board meetings. No matter what it is Kara loves it, loves the chance to take a night and just be normal.

She doesn’t get enough chances for that lately. Not even their usual game nights are the same, not when her powers make for interesting party tricks and she has no reason to hide them from her friends. And it’s nice, being able to show that part of herself without someone cursing her mother’s name and trying to kill her.

But she still needs to be Kara Danvers sometimes as well. She loves being able to show more than a single side of herself, but doing so comes with a constant reminder of the burden she’s taken up as National City’s superhero. It’s a weight she carries willingly, but it’s also one that she needs to set aside every once in a while.

Never permanently, never for longer than a few hours. But those hours are what keep her grounded, keep her from forgetting who she is to the world without all the complications that come from being Supergirl. She can be just Kara Danvers, ordinary citizen of Earth. She can remember what it’s like to make a difference without her powers.

And she can remember what it’s like to make Cat smile, to make her soften that slightest bit. To earn a compliment outright, not one hidden behind dismissive comments or deflections. She can be the person who helps Cat change the world without need for special powers or abilities. And as she watches, Kara can learn to do the same thing on her own.

Which is why after months of slowly growing familiarity and building a consistent schedule, Kara is surprised when Cat says she won’t be needing Kara’s help this week. There isn’t anything different on the schedule to prompt the change, and from the set of Cat’s shoulders it’s not something good.

“Are you sure, Miss Grant?” Kara asks, hesitant but not willing to let it go without at least a small fight. “It’s no trouble, I promise.”

Back when these evenings had started, Kara would never have dared to ask. She’d have left the moment Cat indicated her presence wasn’t needed or welcome. There might have been a few extra Supergirl sightings around the CatCo building that evening if Cat had the same buried sense of tension currently making Kara wonder if something was wrong, but Kara Danvers wouldn’t have pushed.

Now, things are different. They’ve shared too much time together for Kara to simply back down, not when she can see the rigid set of Cat’s shoulders and the careful set of her face. Her boss is pretending there’s nothing wrong, and Kara can’t help the urge she feels to fix whatever it is causing Cat distress.

“It’s nothing, Keira,” Cat snaps, a level of anger coloring her voice that Kara hasn’t heard since before Supergirl.

The last time she’d head it, Kara had backed off. She’d nodded, looked down at her tablet, and done her level best to stay out of Cat’s way for the rest of the day.

This time she squares her shoulders, draws on a bit of her Supergirl confidence, and follows Cat out onto the balcony just in time to see her boss down a glass of scotch. The sight makes Kara think this might not be her greatest plan, but she’s committed now. If something is wrong with Cat, Kara wants to help.

“Miss Grant, are you sure you’re okay?” she asks carefully, already reaching out to take the glass from Cat’s hand and wondering if she can get away with leaving it inside rather than fetching a refill. “If there’s anything I can do to help…”

Even Supergirl confidence will only get her so far when faced with a Cat Grant glare, but Kara stands firm even if her words do trail off. She’s started this, it can only be worse if she doesn’t see it through.

It takes a long moment before the anger on Cat’s face breaks, leaving behind a defeated look Kara hates to see. It’s wrong to see Cat looking so upset, so far from her usual confidence. Cat Grant is always in control, and though Kara has seen that control break several times before it always seems jarring, as if the floor has dropped from beneath her feet and her flight hasn’t quite kicked in yet.

“Close the door,” Cat says with a sigh as she sinks into one of the patio chairs. “And sit down, I will not have this conversation craning my head to look up at you.”

Kara hurries to obey, not wanting to risk Cat changing her mind. Whatever this is, it’s clear Cat needs to get it out.

“My father passed away just as I was starting college, the anniversary of his death is this week,” Cat starts, and Kara’s heart breaks. She wants so badly to reach out and comfort Cat, to pull her into a tight hug, but she can’t bring herself to move and disturb the careful balance they’ve found.

So instead she listens as Cat tells her all about the man she’d looked up to more than anyone else in her life, the man who’d believed in her when no one else seemed to care. Cat talks about how he’d stopped her mother from meddling with her degree and career choice, how he’d done everything in his power to make sure she could reach her dreams.

They don’t talk about his death, not beyond that single sentence, but Kara thinks it’s better this way. Remembering him as he’d been, not as he’d gone, is the best way to keep his memory alive. And if you can keep the memory of your loved ones alive, then you never really lose them. Their strength and love is with you no matter how many years pass.

After an hour Cat’s voice fades into silence, and Kara looks away to pretend she hadn’t seen the tears shimmering in her eyes at last. Cat does not show weakness easily, but Kara knows this time it’s something she needs.

“When I lost my parents,” Kara starts when the silence has stretched on too long, “I never thought I’d be happy again. It took a long time before I could share my memories of them. I’m sorry you lost your father, but I’m grateful you chose to share your memories with me.”

The look Cat sends her is a mix of grateful and curious, but she doesn’t say anything. She just nods, settling back into her couch and closing her eyes as if she has a migraine.

But Kara can’t see any of the usual signs, no tension in Cat’s shoulders or crease of pain across her brow. It’s a slight retreat from the raw emotions of the past hour, and Kara doesn’t bother calling her on it. If Cat needs a break, then Cat gets a break.

“I’ll reschedule your day, Miss Grant,” she says instead, standing quietly and turning to leave. She’d gotten Cat to talk about it, helped ease some of the pain. That’s enough for now.

“Kara.”

The voice is soft, quieter than Kara ever expected Cat to address her. Between that and the fact Cat had said her name correctly, Kara is so startled she nearly drops the glass she’s still holding as she turns back to face her boss.

“Thank you. And please have the fashion layouts ready for me tonight.”

That’s all she says, but Kara knows her well enough to see through the deflection to what’s really meant.

When she heads back to her desk, she isn’t sure her feet are actually on the ground.

***

The one task Kara never truly enjoys is helping Cat edit the articles that cross her desk. She knows it’s important, knows how much Cat hates the slightest misplaced comma or dangling modifier. But it’s also the one thing Kara has never been able to master.

She usually defers the task to Cat, preferring to take any of the other projects for the evenings they share. But it’s becoming clearer that Cat is grooming her towards a promotion of some kind, at some point down the line, and that isn’t working any more.

Tonight, there’s nothing but editing left to be done, and Kara is trying her best to keep up. It’s not going well, Cat has finished at least four articles and Kara is barely finished with her first, but she’s trying. She won’t disappoint Cat, not if she can help it.

It would be easier if the articles were in Kryptonian, but Kara still struggles with the rules and exceptions of the English language. It makes no sense, all the weird spellings and grammar rules that only apply half of the time. If Kara had to pick a single thing about Earth to hate, it would probably be the English language.

“Keira, if you glare any harder at that paper it’s going to ignite,” Cat says with a sigh as Kara stares at a sentence hoping she can figure out what’s wrong with it.

The comments alluding to Kara being Supergirl have grown more common, and by this point the only reaction they get is a head shake or small smirk. Outright denial hasn’t worked, and Kara is hoping the absence of an actual reaction will at least help keep the balance they have now. That’s all she’s asking, and even then it’s mostly out of lingering fear Cat will make her leave if she confirms the suspicions.

“I’m just stuck on this sentence,” Kara says instead of responding. “There’s something off, but I can’t think of what it is.”

“Here, let me see,” Cat says brusquely, holding out an impatient hand for the article. “He misspelled ‘complicated’, Kara. There’s no ‘k’ in it. And the entire sentence doesn’t actually say a single thing worth saying.”

“Oh, I missed that.” The papers are handed back with a searching look, and Kara drops her head. It’s probably too much to hope Cat hasn’t noticed her blush, but she can try.

“Keira, I have a question,” Cat asks after a moment. Her voice is a mix of curiosity and compassion, and it has Kara worried for a moment, not sure what’s coming next. But when Cat doesn’t immediately continue Kara gives a little nod, wondering why Cat would wait for permission when she usually just says what she wants.

“Are you dyslexic? You don’t have to answer, of course. And it has nothing to do with the job you’re doing or will do in the future. But I’ve noticed you seem to struggle with things like this when you help with editing.”

Her tone is the soft, understanding tone Kara has only heard Cat use with Carter before this. It’s a side of the woman Kara has always known existed, one she’s been privileged to glimpse a few times, but she’s never had it directed her way before this.

In the face of such genuine care, Kara doesn't want to lie. She doesn't want to fall back on some half true statement her foster family came up with to protect her secret. She doesn't want to hide, to prove herself unworthy of this level of care from a woman who gives it so rarely.

So she doesn't.

"I'm not dyslexic," she says, looking up at Cat as best she can while still keeping her head bent slightly. She can't shake the fear that this will ruin everything, but she also can't keep the secret locked away much longer. Not when Cat is looking at her with such understanding in her eyes. "I just always struggled with spelling. My family said it was probably a side effect of only learning English as a teenager."

There's a world of truth hidden in the innocuous sounding sentence, and Kara can't help holding her breath as she watches Cat work through the various layers. Will she see a determined resolve take the place of that softness? Will she have to watch as CatCo is torn away from her, the way so much has already been lost?

It's really only a few seconds before Cat manages to work through everything Kara hadn't said, but to someone with super speed it feels like an eternity. Visions of the worst keep dancing through her head, and with every passing millisecond the worry grows.

"Yes, I can imagine that would be a struggle," Cat says quietly, nothing more. But the look on her face says more than that, as does the way she shifts closer to Kara's side. "Losing a family and a culture all at once, I'm sure adjusting was difficult."

Kara thinks back to all the times her strength or other abilities had set her apart. All the times she struggled with her hearing at school, how strange it had been to literally look through someone's body. And how careful she'd had to be with her strength, how easily she could have hurt the people she cared about.

To say it had been an adjustment would be an understatement.

"I had family who helped," she says, rather than explain all of that. She will, someday. Kara can already tell she'll probably end up telling Cat everything. But not tonight. Not like this.

"Well, for now why don't you do a quick read of the articles and just fix what immediately stands out to you," Cat offers, holding the article back out for Kara to take. "I'll do the rest after that, and perhaps with practice you'll improve."

They're back to the half compliments and hidden deflections, but Kara doesn't mind. She knows that's just how Cat works. Not even Carter gets the softer side all of the time, though he sees it far more than anyone else.

"I can do that," Kara says, turning back to the article and hunting for the things she knows are wrong. It might not be exactly the help Cat would prefer, the best option she could find for these late nights spent helping, but it's still something.

They sit in quiet again for a few minutes, each dealing with the new knowledge that's been revealed. But it's a comfortable silence, one that doesn't need filled just for the sake of having something to hear.

So when Kara speaks again, it's because she wants to share this with Cat. She wants Cat to know more about the past that still hurts Kara, the past she still misses every day. She trusts now that Cat won't push her away, that everything will be okay in the end.

"The sky was red, all the time," she starts as Cat reaches for another article. The way her hand freezes in mid-stretch sends Kara's anxiety climbing for a moment, but she pushes it down to continue. This is about trust, about sharing a part of herself with someone who deserves to see it. "A soft red, stretching from horizon to horizon. And the mountains in the distance seemed to stretch forever, higher even than the spires of the city."

"It sounds beautiful, Kara." There's no mention of firing, no sign that Cat is angry she's only now finding out the truth. There's just acceptance. Proof that Kara's faith hadn't been misplaced.

"Oh, it was, Miss Grant. It was stunning."

Kara continues to share stories as they work, describing her home in more detail than she's shared with anyone in years. Only Alex knows as much about Krypton as Kara is telling Cat, and her sister had been there for a few brief moments.

Just as that night is the last time they pretend Kara's secret is anything but, it's the last time Kara calls Cat 'Miss Grant' outside of office hours, and the last time Cat calls her Keira at all.

***

"I'm so sorry," Kara apologizes as she collapses onto the balcony couch, wincing a little as half healed bruises come into contact with the surface. "I know you really needed my help tonight, but I had to help with a little problem."

The problem hadn't been televised, which as far as Kara is concerned is for the best. It had been a short fight, but brutal. And with the sun beneath the horizon, she won't have her powers back to full strength until morning, meaning the bruises are there to stay.

Alex had wanted her to say at the DEO and under the sunlamps, but Kara hadn't been willing to wait around. Cat really had needed her help tonight. Even the short but brutal fight working to contain another DEO escapee had been too long for Kara. She can’t regret helping keep her friends safe, but she hates letting Cat down.

“Would you stop apologizing so much?” Cat says, looking at Kara in alarm. “What the hell happened to you? You look like shit. And you’re wincing.”

“It’s nothing, Cat, I promise. You should see the other guy.”

“That sounds strangely out of place coming from you,” Cat scoffs before leaning forward and reaching out to trace the hint of a bruise forming above the collar of Kara’s shirt. “I thought you healed instantly unless your powers are out.”

Kara can’t help the small pout at that one, wishing it were the truth. As much as she hates being powerless, this in between stage is worse somehow.

“Not always,” she finally admits, once her pout is under control. “Sometimes I just strain them a little. Like pulling a muscle.”

“But you’re okay?” Cat asks, hand still resting on Kara’s shoulder. “You’re not seriously hurt?”

“No, just sore. And when the sun comes up I’ll be pretty much back to normal, maybe a little stiff,” Kara hurries to reassure her. She’s not used to anyone but Alex worrying this openly about her. She’s doubly not used to Cat worrying this much. “I’m okay, Cat. I promise.”

“You’d better be,” Cat growls, closing the distance between them to press her lips against Kara’s in a short but thorough kiss. “You’re not allowed to worry me like this.”

“I don’t know, if that’s the reaction I get every time I might get into a lot more fights,” Kara says, looking up at Cat with a dazed expression. She’d wondered what it would be like to kiss the woman, but she’d never had the courage.

“You might reconsider that decision,” Cat says, standing and resting hands on her hips as she looks down at Kara. “Or you won’t find out what I’ll reward you with when you don’t.”

The threat works, and Kara nods almost frantically in agreement. Of all the ways Alex has tried to make her think things through and avoid unnecessary danger, not one has been half as effective as a single sentence from Cat.

“If I promise now, can I have a sneak peek?” she dares to ask.

This time the kiss is slower, softer, and Kara can feel her lips trying to curve into a smile even as she tries to memorize everything about the feel of Cat’s lips against her own.

Yeah, for this she’ll do whatever it takes to stay in one piece.

***

“Kara, I know you like the view from out there, but you did promise you’d help,” Cat calls in mild frustration when she sees her wife standing quietly on the balcony. She wouldn’t normally mind, but there had been a mix-up with the layouts earlier and now she’s fighting to make deadlines without sacrificing quality.

And if she wants to get out of here at a reasonable time, then she’s going to need help. They’ve already cancelled their reservations, but Cat still has hopes for the rest of their evening plans.

“Sorry, I was just thinking,” Kara says as she heads back into Cat’s office, shutting the glass door behind her. “I remember I used to think you could only love someone if you knew them, that love could never sneak up on someone without them noticing.”

“And you don’t think that anymore?” Cat asks, leaving the work behind without qualm to cross to Kara’s side. The layouts will still be there in a minute, she can take time to kiss her wife.

“No, because I remember realizing I’d loved you long before you ever kissed me. And even now, when I love you more than I can put into words, I know ever discovery we make together will just make me love you more,” Kara says before ducking her head to press their lips together.

Losing herself in the feel of the kiss, Cat hopes there are many more discoveries to be made. A lifetime worth sounds perfect to her.

 


End file.
